


Yours

by dabs_into_oblivion



Series: ineffable husbands [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabs_into_oblivion/pseuds/dabs_into_oblivion
Summary: After the Ritz.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: ineffable husbands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713622
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	Yours

Aziraphale feels so light. He could -- he could -- he glances sideways at Crowley, timidly. What would the demon say? Would he say anything, or would he just glower from behind those glasses that he never took off?

Crowley's eyes flick sideways. "What is it, angel?"

"Well, I just -- " They're by the Bentley now. Crowley leans effortlessly against it, running a lazy hand through his hair. Aziraphale almost squeaks. Takes a breath. Composes himself. "That is, what now?"

Crowley chuckles. "We're free."

"Free? I -- that's impossible, we can't be."

The demon frowns, pushing himself off the car. "What are you afraid of?" When Aziraphale is silent, the other prompts, "Gabriel?"

"Shh!" gasps the angel in consternation. "He might hear you!"

"Oh, I hope so." Crowley grins. "They didn't even give you a proper trial, you know."

Aziraphale wrings his hands, refusing to look at him.

Crowley hesitates. Steps up onto the pavement. "Did you mean the Arrangement?"

Aziraphale straightens his tie. "Yes. No! I thought -- well, it's not strictly necessary anymore, is it?"

"Oh." Curse those glasses! Aziraphale is tired of trying to guess how Crowley feels. "Well, if that's how you feel, then you never have to see me again, angel."

"No," says Aziraphale, a little too quickly, reaching out and grasping the first thing he can, which happens to be Crowley's hand. The demon blinks. Looks at their hands, then up at him.

"No?"

Aziraphale swallows. "Would you take your glasses off, please? I can't have this conversation through a wall of tinted plastic."

"Get in the car," says Crowley shortly, and once they're in the Bentley, he makes a show of removing the glasses, folding them, putting them in the glove compartment. He turns to face Aziraphale, his stunning eyes on full display. "There. Satisfied?"

For a moment, all Aziraphale can do is blink.

Crowley nudges him. "Angel?"

"Yes, yes, sorry," he says hastily, looking at his hands. He's shaking a little, he realises, and half a second later he realises that Crowley can probably see it too. He breathes in. "I only meant that, well, I don't want the Arrangement to be the only reason I'd see you."

He glances up, sideways, to see Crowley scowling.

"Aziraphale, the Arrangement was an excuse to see you. It was never anything else. Of course I enjoyed having less work to do, but mostly I was tired of only running into you every three hundred years. I wanted -- " he gestures " -- what I said about us being on our own side? I wanted that. I -- Heaven be damned, I wanted this." Before Aziraphale can move or do anything, Crowley grasps the back of his neck and kisses him.

It's nice.

Nice is an understatement.

Aziraphale's hands find their way into Crowley's hair and tug gently; Crowley moans and wraps his arms around Aziraphale's shoulders. Daringly, Aziraphale bites Crowley's lip. The sound the demon makes is ungodly. He pulls away just enough to whisper, "Angel, if you're going to do that, you'd better be prepared for the consequences."

Aziraphale is smiling so hard he thinks he might cry. He doesn't trust his voice, so he merely nods and rests his forehead against Crowley's. His arms around the demon tighten and he murmurs, "Mine."

Crowley shudders, kissing Aziraphale's hair. "Yours," he agrees.


End file.
